“Can’t what? Can’t touch each other? Can’t want each other?” I whisper against his throat.
I drop to my knees, my hands running down those powerful thighs.
“Yes,” he says, gazing up at the stars rather than down at me. “You know that. You know we can’t do this.”
“It’s just sex, Marco,” I lie, thin to my own ears. My hands map the familiar territory of his body, remembering every muscle, every scar. God, I’ve missed this. Missed him. I dream about him almost every night, waking up hard as a rock each morning, waiting for Cas to leave for his shower so I can take care of myself, screaming Marco’s name into my fist as I come—half curse, half prayer.
My fingers find the edge of his gown, and Marco’s breath hitches.
I spare a peek through the balcony railing. The garden spreads below us, empty paths winding between shadowed hedges. Behind the glass door to the library, a heavy velvet curtain has been drawn across, shielding us from view. Anyone could walk past that door, push through those curtains, find us here. The Emperor. His son, Julius. Any of the sponsors mingling in the ballroom below.
Yet I don’t care.
“Just this once,” I plead, my hands sliding higher up his thick thighs. “Just this once, and we’ll pretend it never happened.”
Marco’s knuckles are white where they grip the railing.
“You can’t deny we’re both experts at that now,” I say, and the level of bitterness in my voice surprises even me.
His shoulders sag slightly. When he speaks, his voice is barely a whisper. “You’re going to be the death of me, birdie, aren’t you?” I palm his cock through the fabric, feeling him already half hard against my touch. Hehisses between his teeth. “Just this once more,” he says, finally looking down at me. His dark eyes catch the lamplight, and there’s something broken in them. Something that I long to fix, even though I know I can’t. But I can make it better. For a short while. “The… the last time.”
I nod, my throat tight, then waste zero time yanking at his layered gown, finding the ties of his shorts, pulling them down and off his sandaled feet.
No teasing, no buildup—I just take him, all the way down my throat. His cock continues to swell in my mouth, growing thick and hard until I’m choking on him, jaw stretched wide and eyes watering.
Marco thrusts forward even though it’s impossible for him to be any deeper, and the desperate motion sends molten heat shooting to my own cock. My throat burns, but I swallow, swallow, swallow around him, drinking in his every quiet whimper, his every breathy cry.
When he finally lets go of the railing to fist my hair, I moan around him, the vibration making him shudder and pulse. He rips my laurel from my hair, tossing it to one side, andpulls, tingles spiraling through me like shooting stars.
I dig my nails into the flesh of his ass.Harder.
He does, and it’s glorious—the sharp pain in my scalp mixing with the taste of him on my tongue, the way he’s completely lost control now, his hips moving in small, helpless thrusts.
I can’t breathe, my jaw aches, but I’m sucking his cock like my life depends on it because if this is the last time, I want him to remember it. Remember my mouth. Remember me.
My hands shake against his thighs.Not enough.The words thud through me with each heartbeat. Not enough, not enough. I want his hands on me, in me, want everything he can give before it’s ripped away.
The realization smashes into me, drowning me, pinning me, dizzying me.
I want him inside me.
The thought surprises me—catches me completely off guard. I’ve never wanted that before, but suddenly it’s all I can think about. I want to feelthe burn of Marco pushing in, claiming me. Want his cum filling me up, marking me from the inside out.
I push him off with a wet sound, and Marco makes this broken, desperate noise that goes straight to my cock. He’s breathing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he stares down at me with dazed eyes.
My legs shake as I climb unsteadily to my feet. I place one hand on his hip, the other lifting his chin so he has to look at me.
“Will you…” My voice comes out hoarse from the assault of his cock down my throat. I swallow, trying again. “Will you fuck me?”
The words tumble out before I can change my mind, my heart pounding so hard I’m sure he can hear it.
Marco’s eyes widen in surprise. His hands come around to cup my ass, squeezing tightly through fabric.
He considers me. “Have you ever been fucked before?”
I almost lie. The part of me that still hates this beautiful bastard doesn’t want to let him know what I want to give him. Doesn’t want him to know how much I want him to do it.
But in the end, my head shakes.
